


a minor inconvenience

by HerbBirb



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Brotherly Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Legend is a softie, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Magic, Protective Legend (Linked Universe), Team as Family, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, author has lost the plot, hopefully, it will only hurt a little, never mind actually this is getting intense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerbBirb/pseuds/HerbBirb
Summary: It starts with a Wizzrobe, and bad luck.
Relationships: Four & Hyrule & Legend & Sky & Time & Twilight & Warriors & Wild & Wind (Linked Universe), Legend & Sky (Linked Universe), Legend & Warriors & Sky & Wild (Linked Universe), Legend & Warriors (Linked Universe), Legend & Wild (Linked Universe), Legend (Linked Universe) & Everyone
Comments: 149
Kudos: 568





	1. it begins

**Author's Note:**

> @linkeduniverse belongs to @jojo56830
> 
> guess who isn't dead! life has been rough, but that's what fanfic is for!
> 
> let's see how this goes.

It starts with a Wizzrobe, and bad luck.

It starts with a mutated, perversion of an already hideous monster, spewing blackish, pulsing darkness and a heaping pile of bad f*cking luck.

Legend has a few choice words for Hylia, and her twisted fates and plans.

What was she thinking, when the portal pulled the world out from under them and let them fall right into the monster’s lap.

What was she thinking, when the Wizzrobe was faster than expected, more dangerous than they’d believed.

What was she thinking, when three out of nine went down (first Wild, then Sky, followed by Warriors, _one two three_ like the knives of fear in his heart) before Legend could plunge his sword into the beast’s throat and choke out its last, dying snarls.

He shakes the corpse off his blade with a _shlurp_ and immediately casts his eyes around, chest heaving.

Now the fighting is over, he prepares himself for the sight, and imagines the worst. He imagines contorted bodies and writhing pain on his companion’s faces, as they suffer from whatever horrid curse they’d just befallen. ~~Or worst case scenario, they’re not in pain at all, but still and cold and unmoving on the ground. Legend tries not to think about that.~~

There are no screams of agony bouncing off these damp cavern walls. No terrible signs of pain, and that scares him the most, sends alarm bells knelling in his skull.

He stumbles to the vague shadow slumped on the ground, where he’d seen Warriors fall. He hasn’t gotten up, and Legend fears the worst. His heart jumps in his throat and he can’t _breathe can’t think straight._

But he makes it to his companion’s side, on his knees and reaching with his hands, searching with his eyes.

He stops.

“What the f*ck.”

His heart plummets.

“ _What the f*ck_ ,” he says again.

Distantly, he can hear matching disbelieved cries from the others, echoing, but his eyes are glued to the exact spot where Warriors was supposed to be.

The exact spot where now sits a puddle of clothes, and a tiny toddler with familiar blue eyes and familiar blonde hair.

He blinks. The child blinks back.

“ _F*cking hell._ ”

  


Fifteen minutes later an emergency meeting is adjourned and several things have been established.

1\. What in the ever-loving f*ck?  
2\. This is batsh*t crazy.  
3\. What the f*ck do we do?!  
4\. Stop cursing around the children is a good start.  
5\. That’s the least of our problems right now!  
6\. Wild, Sky and Warriors have been de-aged to toddlers by bullsh*t Wizzrobe magic.  
7\. Hylia has forsaken us. (Nothing new there.)

Getting the little ones to trust them is actually the easy bit. ~~There’s irony in here somewhere, Legend thinks.~~ Without memories exceeding their current ages (as they discovered soon enough), it was all so simple to rely on their innocent faith.

“Tell me your names,” Twilight says not unkindly, but Legend can tell he’s internally bracing himself for this next headache of a conversation.

Three voices chirp “Link,” with varying degrees of enthusiasm, then three pairs of eyes blink at each other curiously.

The next five minutes is too redundant to repeat. (“If I’m Link, and he’s Link, and he’s also Link, then everyone’s a Link!” Little Sky finds this absolutely hilarious. (Legend exchanges loaded glances.)) Eventually though, Twilight manages to recover their attention.

“So what would you like your nickname to be?”

“Bird! Like Loftwing!” Little Sky says immediately. Then promptly changes his mind, “No, wait Red! I like red. Or Blue.” His face scrunches up with indecision, adorably serious. “Blue is like the sky. Sky!” He settles finally, clapping his hands, “I love the sky.”

“I like the sky too!” Little Wild chirps, “I like it when it rains! Dad says only wildlings get to play in the rain, but I wouldn’t mind being a wildling if it meant I get to splash in the puddles. Being a little wild doesn’t sound so bad.”

Little Warriors murmurs something under his breath. An encouraging nudge from Twilight has him repeating himself, louder, “…Mommy calls me her little warrior.” His pudgy cheeks colour warmly.

Legend locks eyes first with Twilight, then Time, feeling inexplicably done. (He wonders how big a coincidence can get before it becomes just another example of Hylia’s twisted sense of humour.)

  


They are on the move now. They are taking tentative steps through, and hopefully out, of a cave system possibly infested with monsters, three kids in tow.

A lot is still unsaid. A lot weighing on minds and being shoved aside instead of processed. But they cannot stay here, that much is certain. The caverns is no place for children.

So they pick a direction and walk. Just keep walking and talking and counting heads and keeping the little ones away from the shadows and listening to squeaky voices ask question after question and chasing the silence away so thoughts can’t fester.

And Legend tries very very hard to tamper done the strange, ticklishly feeling in his chest. It’s familiar like an old friend, but also like he’s seeing something for the first time.

He sees something in Sky, in his boundless energy. The shine of innocent curiosity in his eyes and restless bouncing of his feet.

He sees something in Wild’s easy laughter, easy smiles. That carefree way he giggles, unafraid and unabashed.

He sees something in Warrior and the way he’s quiet. His bashful voice, achingly shy, and the soft understanding in his gaze.

Legend looks into three pudgy faces, and thinks of a childhood cut short, a life interrupted. He’s reminded, painfully, of a little boy who adored his uncle and didn’t intimately know every horror of the world. (He will not recognise until it is too late, the sudden flare of emotion in his heart for what it is. Protectiveness. Devotion. Sentiment.)

Twenty minutes after a Wizzrobe and a bout of bad luck, the thoughts won’t stay out, and Legend forgets that he’s not supposed to care.

It all goes downhill from there.


	2. in which there is unwitting babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babysitting, as Legend’s soon to learn, is f*cking hard.

  
Babysitting, as Legend’s soon to learn, is f*cking hard.

He’s never been more thankful that at least _some_ of the others know what they’re doing.

(Wind and Twilight take to the role of big brother like fish to water.)

Wind and Four readily sacrificed three extra sets of clothes to dress the little ones. (The pants still had to be cut at the knees and the shirts still hung low on their small frames.)

And now, as they marched down dark tunnel after tediously dark tunnel, searching for an exit, he effortlessly combated the looming boredom with dramatic, and no doubt exaggerated, retellings of stories they’ve all heard at some point or another, but had the little ones listening raptly, utterly captivated. (Wind’s especially good with Sky as he grows increasingly curious, able understand perfectly even as his sentences grow into shorter, disjointed exclamations the more excited he gets.)

Legend can’t help thinking that he’s been surprisingly mature about it all. (It’s obvious Wind enjoys not being the youngest for once.)

He realises he thought too soon not two seconds later.

Sky trips on a stray pebble, and squawks a startled “Gosh darn-it!”

Wind catches him by the armpits before he can hit the ground, choking on laughter. His face breaks into the widest, sh*t-eating grin and Legend knows immediately that the maturity was short-lived.

“Kid, I’m gonna teach you how to say f*ck.”

The next couple minutes are filled with groaning and protest (Twilight) and generous use of rather colourful language (Wind, Legend, Time). (Four and Hyrule are wise enough not to get involved, instead watching from the sidelines with poorly concealed amusement.)

Twilight decides he’s had enough soon after, excusing himself to scout ahead. ~~Legend resists the urge to roll his eyes at how obvious he is.~~

It is the Wolf who returns.

The Wolf returns and Wild screeches to an instantaneous stop.

“Dog,” he says, like he can’t believe it. His eyes are blown comically wide and Legend bites down a laugh.

“I need to pet the dog. Right now.”

By now everyone has slowed to a stop, watching the interaction. Wild tilts his head to look up at Time, face utterly serious, “Can I pet the dog?”

Time looks like he’s trying desperately not to giggle.

“Of course.”

It’s all the confirmation Wild needs before he’s quite literally pouncing on the Wolf. Legend catches the flash of regret and desperate fear in Twilight’s eyes and cackles.

Sky, who’d migrated to sit on Wind’s shoulders, leans precariously forward to peer curiously, hands tugging on locks of Wind’s hair. Wind’s face puckers. Legend winces in sympathy.

“What’s that? What’s that?”

“That’s a wolf,” Four says mildly.

“No it’s a dog!” Wild says, less mildly.

There’s a tug on his sleeve, and Legend glances down to see Warrior clinging to his arm. The little one is watching the Wolf with wide eyes.

What is he supposed to do here?

Legend crouches uncertainly, to look him the in face.

“Do you… want to pet the dog?” He asks, stilted.

Warrior chews his bottom lip, eyes shifty and conflicted. He dips his head in a nearly imperceptible nod.

Legend feels something inside him soften.

Twilight must have been eavesdropping, because he chooses that second to shove his furry snout in Legend’s face. From on the Wolf’s back ~~when did he get there?~~ Wild giggles.

He can sense Warrior stiffen beside him.

Legend knits his brows together in an exaggerated scowl, waving a finger in the Wolf’s face, “Nosy little f*cker aren’t you?”

Twilight looks as disappointed as a wolf can get.

But at least Warrior looses some of his nervousness, even giggling a little.

Legend takes his hand, dwarfed against his own, and guides it towards the Wolf’s snout. Slowly. Warrior looks ready to bolt at any moment, shying away even as he approaches.

It is Twilight who presses his cold nose to Warrior’s palm.

Warrior looks at his hand, utterly bemused. He starts to beam, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Little f*cker,” he says happily, giving Twilight’s head a pat.

Legend is caught woefully unprepared by this adorable punch in the gut. ~~There’s a strange-but-not-bad sort of warmth in his chest, that not even Twilight’s glare can dissipate.~~

In his peripheral, Four is snickering.

“Legend I didn’t know you could smile.”

“ **Shut. Up.** ”

He hopes to Hylia his face isn’t as warm as it feels. ~~It is.~~

* * *

Sky is a menace.

Sky is a menace and Wind is running out of stories.

Sky is a menace and they’ve been walking for hours on hours and Legend is f*cking exhausted but Sky. Sky is a wide awake terror.

Legend is here, rubbing at the headache behind the walls of his skull, legs like putty clomping sluggishly onwards, shifting with the growing ache in his back.

And Sky is quite literally bouncing off the cavern walls. Like the feral cat consumed by curiosity, chasing after some sort of satisfaction with increasingly difficult questions that Legend doesn’t have the answers to. (“What is this place?” “Where are we going?” _“Are we there yet?”_ ~~Legend has heard enough “are we there yet”s to last a lifetime. If he never hears those f*cking words again it’d be too soon~~ )

Both Wild and Warrior are asleep, having succumbed eons ago, curled up in Hyrule and Twilight’s arms respectively. In a few minutes Legend will take Wild from Hyrule, who’d previously swapped out with Wind, so he can stretch his stiff arms.

(Hyrule looked frankly terrified when the snoring child was gently placed in his arms. Legend was only a little afraid he might drop him. But then Wild made a sleepy sound, like a purr, and hid his face in his neck. Legend watched Hyrule’s mouth form a soft “oh.” The tension melted from his face, replaced by something so fond he was hard to look at.)

Legend is f*cking _envious_ of how they can sleep through Sky’s chatter.

“What are those?”

“Stalagmites,” Legend says, eyes weary.

“What are _those_?”

“Stalactites,” Four answers, voice flat.

“Why are they called different when they look the same?”

“Because stalagmites are on the ground and stalactites are on the ceiling.”

“Why do they grow like that?”

“They don’t _grow_ ,” Legend can see something warring with the exhaustion in Four’s flashing purple eyes, “They are _formed_ due to redeposition of minerals from dripping water.”

“Re-de-posi-shun,” Sky tries the word, “What’s that?”

Time intervenes, now. ~~Legend silently thanks whichever deity grants him this mercy, cause it sure as f*ck isn’t Hylia.~~

Time pulls his ocarina out. The burst of blue catches Sky’s attention immediately.

“What is that?” He drifts closer, intrigued, and tugs at Time’s hand. 

Legend has seen quite a few full grown men and women flinch and grow mousy in Time’s presence, stoic and scarred as he is. But little Sky? He wraps his little palm around Time’s fingers without hesitation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Can I see?” He reaches, and Time hands him the instrument dutifully.

Whilst Sky turns the ocarina over in his hands, Time bends down and plucks him up, replacing him on his shoulders. Sky barely notices.

Legend matches Time’s strides, so they walk abreast, and says to him, “Is that really a good idea?”

Time looks like he’s about to ask what he meant, but before he can, Sky blows into the ocarina.

Sky blows into the ocarina with all the strength in his little lungs, and makes the most discordant, ear-splitting _wail_.

It’s like some f*cker is driving a chisel through Legend’s skull. 

Past the ringing in his poor, tortured ears, Legend hears sharp inhales and hissed winces. A glance around shows the others in various states of cringing. Warrior jolts awake briefly, with a soft whine and crinkled brow. Twilight mutters comfort Legend can’t hear and soothes him back to sleep with a hand over his ears. Wild stirs too, but does not wake, instead burrowing further into Hyrule’s arms.

“Loud,” Sky says, breathless.

Time is grimacing. Legend’s headache spikes.

Time gently plucks the ocarina from Sky’s hands, looking regretful. He presses the instrument to his own lips, and plays. Soft music fills the air, like an allaying balm over previous injury.

Sky is transfixed.

Legend watches him lean forward, resting his arms on Time’s head. His eyes are big and round and glassy, like he’s in a trance. He doesn’t move, doesn’t talk, just listens.

The music swathes them all up in its embrace, warm and slow and sweet like honey. Legend even finds himself humming, just a little, along.

By the time the song ends, Sky is fast asleep.

And Legend doesn’t even notice until after Time has put away the ocarina, and the silence prevails. There are no more questions now, no more chatter, no more bouncing. Just the soft snores of a little boy asleep on Time’s shoulders.

Legend slumps in relief.

Time smiles knowingly.

They walk on.

* * *

They emerge from the cave to star-speckled skies and a slim crescent moon.

Legend has Wild riding on his hip, who’s the first of the little ones to rouse. He blinks, the crisp night breeze ruffling his hair, tickling Legend’s nose.

“We’re out,” Wild says, startling blue eyes round and owlish in the dim lamplight.

“We’re out,” Legend agrees, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Wild glances back the way they came, at the gaping darkness of the cave mouth, and shivers. He looks to the horizon.

“I’m glad we’re out.”

“Yea?”

“It was too dark in there. Dark and boring.”

Legend snorts, “You said it, kid.”

All around them, the others are breathing in the fresh air, relaxing shoulders and stretching sore muscles, sighing deep and relieved.

Legend sets Wild on his feet. His back cracks satisfyingly as he pulls his tired arms over his head.

Time and Twilight have their heads bent together, probably discussing courses of action, planning, assessing their location. But then Wind plops down on the ground, declares loudly that he’s not moving another inch until morning, and promptly begins unrolling his bedroll.

And that’s that.

Time and Twilight shrug and put aside planning for tomorrow. Four gently lays Warrior next to where Time left Sky, still snoring away. 

“We should start a fire,” says Four.

“I’ll collect kindle,” Hyrule volunteers.

“I’ll go with you,” Legend says, “Someone has to make sure we get back before sunrise.”

Hyrule rubs his neck, sheepish. Legend ruffles Wild’s hair, “You wanna come too? I doubt you’re tired enough to sleep again after that nap.”

Wild nods, humming his agreement. He seems distracted, still focused on the open skies and inky ocean of rolling hills that stretch far out from the cave mouth their standing in. Something shines in his eyes, as he scampers after Hyrule, something restless, reminiscent of the reckless companion they know so well.

Legend sighs. Deeply pained.

What did he just get himself into?

Twilight would be on watch when the three of them stumble back to camp that night, looking like they were dragged backwards through a bush. Wild would be holding Hyrule’s hand, the two of them laughing and falling over each other. Legend would be trailing behind, looking slightly haunted and extremely done.

He would collapse into his bedroll that night completely spent, falling asleep to little Wild’s uncontrollable giggles and Hyrule’s wheezing and Twilight’s confusion filling the air. ~~And maybe he smiled to himself, just a little.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case anyone was wondering, the song Time plays is Zelda's lullaby.


	3. like ninety eight percent fluff I swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which legend is soft.
> 
> but honestly when is he not.

“It’s too early in the morning for this adorable sh*t.”

Legend sighs and Four snickers.

Legend thinks he’s being completely justified.

The scene before them is, indeed, unfairly cute. The little ones found each other in sleep, and now lay curled together, swaddled in so many blankets they’re nearly hidden from sight. Sky is lying star-fished, taking up most of the blankets, drooling in Wild’s hair whilst Wild snores softly into Warrior’s shirt, their legs tangled together.

Legend isn’t awake enough to deal with this. ~~At least that’s what he tells himself, when he feels the smile creep on his face, and does nothing to hide it.~~

The sun has been rising for a while, peaking out over the horizon in lazy tendrils. Legend has last watch, just after dawn. He sits with Four (who’s just awake for no goddamn reason. Ugh, morning people.) now, as the last traces of night are chased away, replaced by the morning’s glow. Twilight’s awake too (another one. It’s like he’s surrounded by maniacs). He stalked off earlier to find breakfast.

With no clue where they are, they aren’t particularly in a hurry. So they let the others sleep in. It’s not often they get to rest.

They talk a little, but not really. Legend appreciates that he can sit with Four, and not have to say anything. Of course he _can._ They _could_ talk about, oh maybe how f*cking cucco bananas this entire situation is. They probably _should_ talk about it, process it. But they don’t. It’s too early for a headache. (Too early for Legend to have the energy to dig up words to describe how he’s feeling.)

Four understands, though. Four doesn’t mind. Four looks at Legend out of the corner of his eye, and they don’t try to pretend everything is okay, nor is everything not okay.

So they sit. And not talk. And sip hot water from flasks. Listening to soft snores bounce off the cave walls, yawning in the languid morning air.

And the little ones sleep on. Tangled in each other and completely oblivious.

It’s f*cking adorable and doing things to Legend’s heart.

Four follows his gaze and sighs softly, in acknowledgement, in agreement.

Legend doesn’t quite know what compels him to reach over. To reach and pull the blanket from where it had fallen to Wild’s waist, back around his shoulders. To gently ease Warrior’s head back onto his own pillow. To wipe the drool on Sky’s cheek with his sleeve before standing back up.

He can’t explain what made him do it ~~much like how he can’t explain the odd swelling sensation in his chest, in his heart~~ because it just happened. Like a reflex, an instinct buried somewhere deep down he never noticed before. (It feels familiar, though. Like ivy he hadn’t noticed growing over his walls until he finds himself suddenly compromised.)

He forgot Four is still standing there.

Four, who is looking at him now. Four who’s full on smirking. Four who hasn’t even said anything yet and Legend can already feel his face heating.

Oh Goddess. He f*cked up.

“ _What._ ” His voice goes embarrassingly shrill with defensiveness.

Four just grins wider. His eyes twinkle, infuriating. Legend huffs and looks away.

“ _Legend._ ” Four is somehow able to sound teasing and delighted and horribly smug with just one word. Legend considers homicide.

“ _Oh f*ck off I swear to Hylia—_ ”

“I knew it,” Four singsongs, ignoring him completely, , “You’re going _soft._ ”

* * *

Breakfast is a painful affair, without their cook.

Legend wonders how they’ll ever survive, looking at the charred remains of their would-be meal sitting dejectedly in the ashes of their campfire. 

They decide it’s safer to just eat jerky rations for the time being ~~but not before several of them receive first-degree burns for their attempts. Time even broke a finger.~~

So here Legend is, digging through his packs, searching for burn salve, when something he’d forgotten he’d stuffed in his bag ~~he was disorientated and in a hurry okay give him a break~~ comes unravelling out in a heap on the stone floor.

A scarf, brilliant blue. 

Legend blinks and suddenly the scarf is snatched from the ground.

Little Warrior cradles the cloth close to his chest, mindfully, but possessively. There’s an odd, defensive look in his eye, unexpectedly fierce and terribly redolent of a their captain in blue. Legend is just a little ~~more than a little~~ taken aback.

“Where did you get this?” Warrior demands, a bit heated, “This is _Mommy’s._ ”

Oh.

Well then.

On any other day, in any other situation, Legend would have been thrilled to know Warriors was a momma’s boy. But right now, he’s left scrambling for some sort of explanation.

“Because uh,” he says very eloquently, “Your um, your momm— your mom gave it to us…?”

Ah f*ck.

(Legend would bet five hundred rupees that there’s no way the woman who raised Warriors would’ve willingly given with her scarf to a group of strangers.)

“What’s going on over here?” Wind materialises out of thin air and Legend f*cking breathes a sigh of relief. Thank Goddess he doesn’t have to do this alone.

Warrior clutches the scarf tighter, eyes narrow and accusing, “Why do you have Mommy’s scarf?!”

Wind’s eyebrows shoot up and up and threaten to slide right off his forehead. He looks to Legend. Legend looks back.

“Okay,” he says, “Let’s calm down. There’s a simple explanation for this.”

Warrior makes a face, but he lowers his hackles, if hesitantly. He hears and he listens, respectful of authority even at barely six years old.

Legend stares at Wind. How the f*ck is he so good at this?

Smugness flashes briefly across Wind’s face, before he schools himself back into peacekeeper-mode.

“We have your scarf,” Wind says truthfully, slow, sure, “Because your mom gave it to _you_ , and we wanted to help you keep it safe.”

Legend hums and tries not to look too agreeing, like he’s not completely lost on what to do other than nod along.

At least Warrior looks a little more placated. He’s stopped glaring, looking more curious more than accusatory. He asks, “Mommy gave it to me?”

He stares done at the scarf pooling in his arms, almost reverently.

Legend leans forward a little, intrigue beating down his hesitance, “That scarf must be important, huh?”

Warrior nods eagerly, “It’s Mommy’s favourite. She wears it all the time.”

“Your mom must really trust you then, to give it to you.”

At that, Warrior’s chubby cheeks colour bright scarlet, and he hides his face in blue fabric.

Legend bites his lip, fighting the lift in the corners of his mouth. He takes the scarf from Warrior in both hands, who actually lets him ~~he cheers internally~~ , watching with interest, carefully winding it around the little one’s neck.

It’s too long.

The blue fabric spills over his tiny shoulders and falls to his ankles.

But Warrior _beams._

He does a small twirl, eyes trained on the scarf flowing behind him, and nearly trips.

Legend’s insides feel warm and pleasant.

But then he catches Wind eyeing him ~~ah f*ck he forget he was there~~ , utterly radiant with something uncomfortably proud and _happy_ and Legend feels his guts knot with embarrassment.

There’s a yell, distantly, from Hyrule wondering if Legend’s got the salve yet, but they both ignore him, not getting off their asses and too busy sharing looks and watching Warrior toddle around proudly with his mother’s scarf around his neck.

Wind grins. He says, “Wow Legend. That was really soft, even for you.”

* * *

“I want a cape too!”

Legend is sitting cross-legged, a jar of burn salve in his lap, salve on his fingers as he applies it to Hyrule’s blistering forearms (a result of the Breakfast Fiasco, as they are now calling it). Hyrule watches him work, humming absently.

In their peripheral, they observe Sky squealing when Wind reveals a certain sailcloth, immediately stealing it to wear around his neck (He doesn’t seem to recognise it as anything more than a prop to play with).

Sky chases Warrior around the camp, waving an imaginary sword and yelling threats that were about as threatening as a seven year old in a blanket. ~~Legend makes a mental note to fix that, teach the kid what a _real_ threat sounds like~~

Warrior runs, giggling into his hands, nearly tripping on the hem of his scarf every step he makes. Eventually though, Legend watches him fight back, armed with a sword made of air and a lot of enthusiasm. He hollers a battle cry and it’s the loudest Legend’s ever heard him. (Where did that timid little boy from before go?)

Hyrule snickers, “Keen little fella isn’t he?”

“Didn’t know the kid had it in em,” Legend agrees. He dips in his fingers in the jar again, scoops, and smears it’s contents on irritated skin. He doesn’t miss the way Hyrule’s mouth twitches, the only indication of his discomfort. Legend grunts in sympathy.

“He’s got moves,” Hyrule muses, “See, what he did just now? Looks kinda familiar.”

Legend squints at where Hyrule’s trying to point, tracing Warrior’s arm as it curves and slices in the air. Something does indeed seem strangely recognisable about the action. His hands pause what they’re doing for a second, as his focus is trained solely on Warrior’s movements. Swing, swing, swing… Swing, swing, swing…

It clicks.

“That’s a parry,” He voices, slightly taken aback. Or at least a child’s imitation of a parry. The longer he watches, the more certain he is that Warrior’s movements are learned. Are deliberate. _Now where did that come from?_ ~~He stores the observation away for later consideration.~~

Hyrule opens his mouth, like he’s about to comment, when all of a sudden an interruption lands in his lap.

Said interruption is seven years old and absolutely feral.

“Hi!” Wild chirps.

“Hi,” Hyrule looks slightly dazed. 

Legend shakes his head and smiles.

_Idiots._

He reaches around for Hyrule’s arms again, which were yanked out of his hands with the force of Wild’s touchdown.

“What’re you doing here, scamp?” Hyrule says lightly, resettling with his arms bracketing either side of Wild, “Don’t you wanna play Knights with Sky and Warrior?”

Wild shakes his shaggy head. He leans back, draws up his knees, and slots himself comfortably under Hyrule’s chin. (Ever since their intrepid adventure last night ~~Legend still shudders when remembering~~ those two have grown exceptionally close. He feels an odd spark of pride that Hyrule’s gotten over his initial awkwardness.)

Legend asks, “Why not?”

“It’s not fun,” Wild tells him simply.

“No? How so?” Legend finishes up the salve, wipes his hands on an old rag. He screws the lid back on the jar and puts it away before reaching for the gauze.

“I don’t like it,” Wild’s eyes follow his movements, circling Hyrule’s forearms, “Fighting isn’t nice. Even just pretending.”

It’s just a statement. Just a statement and yet Legend falters.

He shares a look with Hyrule over Wild’s head.

He says “That’s wise sentiment coming from a kid,” but he’s thinking about a boy, barely seventeen, with scars he doesn’t remember getting and a destiny to fulfil. He’s thinking about a conversation at the dining table about buying a house and settling down, about the future and being a century old.

Legend swallows.

He asks, strained, “What do you want to be when you grow up, Wild?”

The boy looks up at him, eyes sharp blue like ice crystals. He shrugs,” I dunno.”

“That’s okay,” Legend manages to tie off the gauze without shaking, “That’s perfectly okay.”

“Finished.” Hyrule drops his arms and immediately loops them around Wild.

There’s a bad taste in Legend’s mouth, but he looks at Wild now and decides not to let the silence linger.

He says, “I wonder what Wolfie’s up to. Why don’t we go see?”

And Wild nods, eager, and he scrambles to his feet, tugging Hyrule along. Legend follows behind at a slower pace.

“Let’s go!”

Hyrule shoots him a look over his shoulder, a look that said _I know you feel it, I know you’re soft for them too_ and it’s like an arrow that hits and hits deep.

* * *

It takes an eternity, but eventually they get moving.

The sun is high in the sky as they emerge from their refuge in the cave mouth, with no destination in mind and only uncertainty ahead. But they all breathe easier just leaving the underground behind.

Legend shoots one last look back at the cave entrance, as they crest the first hill, filled with a quiet relief.

“Good f*cking riddance.” Okay maybe not so quiet relief.

He turns back and jogs to catch up with the rest.

They walk. They walk and it’s for once blessedly uneventful. ~~Legend immediately regrets thinking this, because he certainly just jinxed them and Hylia’s probably laughing at him somewhere, plotting her plots.~~

Sky is skipping alongside him, his head swivelling as he tries to see everything all at once. The grass, the ground, the hills, the tree line ahead, the murmuring river to their right and the flowering fields to their left. His eyes, bluer than the sky above their heads, roll wide and round and sparkling with childish curiosity and awe. Legend suddenly recalls a quiet night around the campfire, sharing stories, and Sky mentioning a home in the clouds. He wonders if this is technically his first time on solid ground (it would explain his behaviour in the cave, the intense inquisitiveness at every little thing. Legend wonders how Sky isn’t scared sh*tless.)

“There’s so much,” the little one breathes, spinning in circles, “So far!”

Legend smiles ~~it can’t be helped~~ and says, ‘The world’s a big place.”

“I wanna see it all!”

“All?” Legend tousles his hair playfully, “Isn’t that a little ambitious?”

“I’m gonna do it!” Sky insists, a familiar flare of determination in his eyes. He grins and says, “You should come too.”

“Me?” Legend chuckles to hide his surprise, “Why me?”

“Why not?” Sky counters, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He frowns a little, “Don’t you wanna?”

He’s looking up at him so earnestly, head tilted and everything, and Legend can’t deny the warming in his heart.

“Of course I do,” He says, and Sky glows.

He latches onto his hand as they walk, and rattles on about this and that, pointing at scenery and brightening with interest over everything with such fervour. Legend is happy to answer his questions, to comment occasionally, but for the most part, just listening to Sky chatter with a fond little smile on his face.

At some point Time appears at his side, catching his attention with a hand on his shoulder. The Master Sword sits idle on his back.

He says, “We should start heading for the trees, it looks like it might rain soon.”

Legend leans his head back to look at the sky, and notices for the first time the hefty-looking raincloud that’s been slowly creeping across the blue expanse, gradually casting the land in dim shadow. He looks forward, to the stretch of forest still quite a distance away.

“Wonderful,” he says drily.

There’s a tug on his sleeve. Legend looks down, and Sky’s staring up. Up past him and at Time. At the sword on his back.

“What’s that,” the now familiar gleam of intrigue glosses over his eyes.

“A sword,” he says nonchalantly, a lame answer masking unease. He doesn’t like that look. Like Sky’s seeing something that he cannot. Like the sword is…calling to him. To her chosen one.

Oh f*ck.

Oh f*ck no.

No no no there’s no f*cking way he’s touching that sword.

Sky asks “Can I hold it” the same moment Time says “Absolutely not.”

Legend’s gut clenches with something cold and unpleasant and dreadful and he _knows_ he’s probably being irrational but he refuses _refuses_ to let Sky touch that sword. There’s an image in his mind’s eye of a child too young with a burden too big. There’s the thought of Sky, curious little Sky, holding a weapon in his small small hands and aiming to kill. There’s the memory that Sky’s already done it before.

He forces on a smile and says to Sky ~~Sky who looks at the world and sees only beauty~~ “Hey is that Wolfie?”

And just like that, a spell is broken. Sky turns away, and his eyes brighten with a different light, a recognisable excitement. With a cry of “Wolfie!” he bolts after Twilight.

Legend exhales.

He flicks his gaze to Time, painfully silent, stoic. There’s a sour taste on his tongue as he rasps, “It’s not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair,” Time scrubs his face with one hand, sighing. He looks older, tired, sad, “Not for us.”

And Legend can only agree, clawing hands through his hair and breaths dragging from his lungs.

“Can’t protect them forever,” he says miserably.

“You’re soft for them,” Time says quietly, “We all are. You know we’ll try.”

* * *

The first raindrops will fall before they make it to the trees.

Legend slings a giggling Sky over his shoulder and books it to safety.

All nine are completely and utterly drenched by the time they make it into the forest, wringing out clothes and shaking out hair. They take shelter in the shade of one of the larger oaks, shielded from the whistling wind and cutting rain, where they can take a breath and laugh.

Legend wipes the water from his face. A shiver, partially from the chill, partially from the thrill, trickles down his spine.

The leaves overhead are dense, not impenetrable, but better than how they’d fare if they ventured out in this weather. So it’s a unanimous decision to settle here among the roots and grass, and wait.

Legend flops against the tree trunk, sliding down to the ground with his knees drawn up to his chest.

He watches idly as everyone adjusts around him.

Twilight is shaking like a wet dog, his bushy pelt flinging water droplets all over Time, who swats at him grumpily.

Wind chooses to stand under the rain, arms splayed open over his head. An easy smile is on his face, cool, calm. He’s going to catch a cold like that.

Four’s entire body trembles with the force of his shivers, he looks like a drowned rat as Hyrule digs a thick coat out of one of their packs to drape around his shoulders.

And the kids. The kids have seated themselves in a small circle. Warrior is frowning at the damp hair clinging to his face, poking his eyes. Wild reaches over and sticks his fingers in it, thoroughly messing it up even more. Then Sky knocks his hands aside to press the hair flat back on Warrior’s head.

Legend isn’t quite sure of what they’re doing, but they seem to be failing at it.

A shape lumbers into his peripheral, dark and furry, and something cold and wet touches his cheek. Legend flinches away from the Wolf’s nose, glaring, but Twilight just huffs and plops himself in Legend’s lap. Inconsiderate bastard.

“You’re f*cking heavy,” He hisses, shoving halfheartedly.

Resistance seems futile.

“And don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, they don’t work on me anymore wolf boy.”

Twilight has the audacity to ignore him.

“I’m gonna smell like wet dog for days,” he sighs, deep and pained, resigned to his fate.

When he looks back to the three little ones, they’ve clustered closer together. Warrior has his hands in Wild’s hair, Sky watching over his shoulder. Wild’s hair is shaggy and overgrown, even as a child, and it falls to around his shoulders. Warrior now, before his very eyes, gathers up the blonde locks in strands, and starts to loop and twist them together, into the slow beginnings of a braid.

 _Now where did he learn that?_ Legend is asking himself, once again.

(He really shouldn’t be surprised. Child or not, this is _Warriors_ after all. He shouldn’t’ve expected anything less from their captain.)

And so he’s not really paying attention to the fact that he’s maybe sort of smiling just a little, because Twilight nudges his chin with his snout and when he looks there’s that same knowing in his eyes that Legend’s been seeing for the last twenty four hours. That same twinkle of mirth and mushiness and maybe even a hint of pride that drives him crazy.

The Wolf barks once. Legend swears he’s not just imagining Twilight’s voice telling him he’s soft. ~~And maybe his voice isn’t the only one.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled Author Is Bad At Sticking To Outlines So This Got Longer Than First Anticipated Sorry


	4. sh*t gets real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buckle up folks this one gets w i l d

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> has anyone seen the plot, cus I seem to have misplaced it
> 
> why is this so long????
> 
> eeeeeee sorry not sorry for this

Legend needs to do something.

The rain still hasn’t stopped and he’s starting to feel restless. Staying in one place for so long, in foreign land no less, is getting on his nerves. His skin itches like he’s being watched and his fingers keep fidgeting with anxious energy.

He spends long minutes pacing and trying not to pace and pacing again. The others are uneasy, too. He can practically feel the stiff alertness roll of them in waves. The only ones who don’t seem painfully rigid are the little ones, but even they don’t fare much better, dull and grey with boredom that they are.

“I’m going scouting,” Legend finally decides. Then he’s turning and already on the move before anyone can object. (Not that they do, much. Legend thinks they understand.) He tramps into the woods alone, and for a while, nobody follows.

Legend pushes past tree branches and strides over fallen logs. Nearly slips in mud and wipes rainwater from his eyes. The forest is misty and dim and he has to squint to see his hand in front of his face. He’s so focused on not tripping over his own feet that it’s easy to ignore the biting cold seeping through his clothes. It’s tiring, but a welcome distraction.

With his eyes trained on the ground ahead, it takes a bit for him to notice that he’s no longer in the woods.

Legend stops in the centre of a clearing.

He can see the sky above, sallow and somber. He can see vague, shapeless shadows, like pillars in the gloom, that he takes to be trees, growing on the glade’s outskirts. He sighs and lets crisp air fill his lungs.

Then. He hears a growl.

Legend freezes.

He is not alone.

Suddenly the world comes to a standstill. Suddenly dread pools heavy in his gut. Suddenly his instincts are on fire, screaming that something is very very wrong.

The ground quakes, so subtle he’d only just noticed, something resonating through the earth. There is another low snarl, so deep this time he can feel it in his bones.

Something. Else. Is. Here.

Legend jerks into action, bracing himself and pivoting in circles, eyes searching the murk frantically to see what he’d missed, what’s wrong, _what’s here._

 _Ambush_ , he thinks. _Monsters_ , he thinks. _Danger_ , he thinks.

Then he sees it. One of the shadows closest, tallest, largest, _moves._

Not a tree. No, not at all.

He sees now, the curve of its stomach, the arms he’d mistaken for logs, the head resting on shoulders wider than he is tall, mouth gaping open...

 _Giant_ , Legend thinks, and swallows.

And those aren’t growls.

Those are _snores._

Legend is standing in the middle of a clearing with a sleeping giant, suddenly hyper-aware of how loud he’s breathing.

_Holy f*cking sh*t._

If he wasn’t absolutely _terrified out of his f*cking mind_ , he’d be sighing over how laughably bad his luck is.

Back the way he came, the trees look an eternity away. Every fibre of his being wants to _run for his life_ and get as far away from here as possible, preferably like, right now. But he doesn’t dare. Not if he doesn’t want to give himself away.

So, Legend steels himself, pulls his fragmented thoughts into some semblance of coherence, and starts to edge, slow, _agonisingly slow_ , tracing his steps back to the safety of the woods.

His heart thunders so loud he’s almost shocked the giant can’t hear it.

He treads light, watching the ground ever so carefully, for a stray branch or crunchable leave that might give him awa—

“ _Legend!_ “

He jumps out of his skin.

“Legend? Leeeegeeeend! Where are you?”

F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck—

His heart stops. His stomach drops.

Someone steps out from the trees. Someone small and loud and bouncing on his feet.

Sky’s face lights up when he spots Legend, “Found you!”

_No! No no no!_

_Go away!_ he wants to scream, _Get the f*ck out of here!_

But he can’t find his voice. He can’t. Horror clogs his throat and its too late now. Too late.

He knows exactly what’s going to happen next and in that moment he’s never felt more helpless.

For a second, unfiltered fear roots Legend to the spot.

But a second is all it takes for everything to go horribly wrong.

The snores stop, all of a sudden. There is a howl, like thunder before lightning strikes, fearsome and wrathful and all-consuming.

Sky’s face twists with confusion, then terror.

The ground shudders. The giant rises.

Sagging, mangled flesh. Slimy hair, knotted and sticking to a misshapen head. A single, monstrous eye.

_F*ck._

“ _Run!_ " Legend shrieks, but Sky does not move. Sky is too busy screaming at the top of his lungs.

A shadow casts over them. The giant rears, and stomps once.

_Thump!_

Legend staggers, falling to one knee. Sky is thrown to the ground.

He lurches back up, heart in his throat, fuelled by something cold and burning in his stomach, forcing his feet to _move._

_He has to get Sky out of here. NOW._

_Thump! Thump!_

It’s getting closer. It’s _right on top of them._

Legend doesn’t think. ~~The shadow is growing bigger.~~ Legend doesn’t look up. ~~Footsteps rock the world.~~ Legend acts on instinct and lunges.

He collides with a small body and they skid into a roll.

He digs his limbs down, dragging them to an awkward stop, Sky tucked securely in his arms.

Behind him, the earth explodes.

Dirt and mud and grass rain down on them as Legend pushes up and gets his legs under him. The ground where he stood not two seconds earlier is nothing but a shallow crater.

It straightens, looming, roaring. Thunder booms. Lightning flashes.

Sky is whimpering, clinging to his tunic, oh so small and very very vulnerable. Legend clutches him tighter and runs.

The giant shambles after them, one of its steps matching three of Legends’s strides. There is roaring in his ears and pounding in his chest, there is his body straining with effort as he ducks and dodges, circles and weaves across bouncing terrain, shooting back under the cover of woodland foliage. And there is a burst of adrenaline, when trees on either side are ripped clean out of the ground and suddenly hurtling through the air straight at them.

The crash of oak trunks splintering as they hit the ground around them is loud.

The bellow of the giant following close behind is even louder.

But loudest of all is Sky’s shaky cries, quiet and tearful against his chest.

He can’t think. Can’t see. Can’t tell where they are, where they’re going. Puddles splash beneath his feet and mud slicks his boots and he can’t see through the rain can’t see the ground under.

Can’t see the root until it’s too late.

Legend’s foot catches. He trips.

Ah f*ck.

Sky cries out.

Legend can’t get his feet under him. Can’t move quick enough. Pitches forward. Wrenches his body sideways and lands roughly on his shoulder. His head knocks on something and his vision explodes with hot white.

 _F*ck me._ He thinks, blinking through raindrops and stars, _F*ck this, f*ck all._

He starts to get up again. He pushes away from the ground with one arm, shaking with effort, the other still curled tight around Sky. His chest heaves with each breath he drags out of his lungs.

He needs a minute. He needs _air._

But it’s bearing down on them, teeth bared and drawing closer and closer and closer and Legend _can’t breathe he’s not fast enough and it’s here and this is a stupid way to di—_

**BOOM!**

There is light. There is fire. The giant recoils, gnarled hands flying to its face, wailing wretchedly. Smoke sizzles between its fingers.

Then they’re no longer alone.

 _Phwip phwip phwip!_ Three arrows sprout neatly along the giant’s arm, heads buried deep.

Wind bursts from the trees with a fierce battlecry, another lit bomb in hand. He throws and it soars and soars and explodes against the giant’s chest.

Legend finds the strength to climb to his feet. He thinks he’s grinning. Around them, one by one the others emerge, battle ready. He sees Time charge, sword arching, cutting deep into the giant’s ankles. He sees Twilight and Hyrule circling, darting in and out to stab the sensitive flesh behind the giant’s knees.

And he sees Four, lingering on the outskirts and waving frantically at him, two little faces peeking out from behind, watching the battle with wide eyes.

Legend goes to them. Sky is still clutched in his arms, sparing the world the briefest of glances, before once again hiding his face in Legend’s neck.

Four eyes them up and down, intense, worried, when they make it to safety in the shade.

“We’re _fine_ ,” Legend waves him off, “Bit roughed up, is all.”

He kneels, and gingerly tries to set Sky on the ground.

“Hey. It’s okay now,” He says, but Sky has his tunic in a vice grip. He peers up at Legend with wide, watery eyes, and mumbles, “M’sorry.”

“What for?” Legend says as gently as he can. He can feel Wild and Warrior shift a tiny step closer.

“I was jus’ lookin’ for you!” Sky blurts and the tears flow anew, “I-I didn’t mean to—I didn’t!”

And Legend’s heart breaks, a little. ~~More like shatters into a million itty bitty pieces.~~

“Hey. Hey, look at me, Sky, it’s okay.”

He fumbles their fingers together, holding Sky’s hands and squeezing, until he meets his eyes.

“ _Never_ blame yourself for things you had no way of knowing or preventing, okay? It wasn’t your fault.” ~~If anything, it was his own fault for leading them there in the first place.~~

“And that goes for you two as well,” Legend pointedly looks to Wild and Warrior, “I don’t wanna hear sh*t like this coming from any of you.”

Warrior and Wild nod, fervent. Sky sucks in a breath and visibly struggles to calm down. Legend feels the ache in his chest soften, sighing.

“It’s okay to cry, silly child,” he brushes the hair out of Sky’s eyes, “Silly silly child. Just please, for the love of Hylia, _please_ , next time I tell you to run, you _run_ okay?”

Sky actually smiles a bit, unbidden, as he nods, earnest. Then, as if an afterthought, says, “Not without you, though.”

Legend sighs loudly, “You don’t ever change, do you?”

He senses Four moving, finally, lowering down to them (which isn’t much) and edging closer.

“Why change what’s not broken?” He reaches out to wipe Sky’s cheeks with his sleeve corner, then, as if an afterthought, rubs at the mud on Legend’s face too.

“Oh f*ck off,” he says without heat.

Sky giggles, a little watery, and slowly starts to detangle himself from around Legend’s neck. But the second he lets go he’s pounced on by Wild and Warrior, yapping worriedly and clinging to him like a pair of octorocks.

Legend and Four chuckle to themselves, climbing to their feet.

Then there is screaming, and that’s all the warning they get before the present comes crashing down on them, quite literally.

Legend looks up just in time to see Wind arcing through the air toward them before he’s ploughing right into Four, sending the two of them sprawling in a mess of limbs and yelps.

“I think you broke his ribs,” Legend says, rushing to them.

“Blame the f*cker who threw me!” Wind pushes off clumsily. Four makes a harsh noise and coughs.

“Oh sh*t did I really,” Wind immediately tenses up but Four shoos away his concern, taking Legend’s proffered hand to shakily get back up.

Legend looks back out to the battle, watching for a moment as the others attempt to knock the giant down, projectiles flying and swords swinging. They’re still going strong, but visibly struggling, weighed down by new wounds.

Without another thought he’s running. Four at his heels.

“We’re going in,“ He yells over his shoulder, at Wind left standing there, “Watch the kids!”

* * *

In the end, Four actually does break a rib. Several, in fact.

He isn’t the only one walking ~~carried~~ away with injuries. Time’s arm is broken and he’s nursing a concussion from being smacked around one too many times. Twilight has bruises purpling his neck, from where the giant had tried to strangle him, nearly crushing his windpipe. Wind’s lip is split and he’s lost at least one tooth, one eye starting to swell.

Legend himself is trying desperately to ignore the pain in his dislocated shoulder as he upends their packs, scrabbling for any potions he can find.

Because by far the worst off of all is Hyrule, who the giant had nearly crushed in it’s hand, two deep fingernail gouges cutting into his side.

He’s going to bleed out and _Legend can’t find any potions._

In his frantic rummaging for a moment he nearly misses Wild’s Sheikah Slate falling out face down in the dirt.

It could have potions in it. It’s worth it to check and that’s all it takes for Legend to lunge after it, fiddling blindly with it’s controls. In his haste, he barely glimpses at the built-in map, and forgets about it completely when he finds what he’s looking for. ~~He should’ve been paying attention. He should’ve known what that meant.~~

* * *

Legend only lets Hyrule rest when he’s sure his heart won’t stop the minute he looks away.

He’s sound asleep in seconds. Legend is left still clutching his hand and he’s not quite sure how that happened ~~but he’s not gonna stop now.~~

He sits back, rolling the cricks out of his shoulders, and sighs.

They do not have long. Even with Hyrule in this state, they can only rest for a little before they must go on. It’s not safe here, that much is certain. They have to keep moving.

They do not have long.

They should get going.

He repeats these words to himself, over and over again, but nothing can make him move away.

His eyes land first on the new, innocent looking bandages, a fresh red taint the only evidence of two angry, gaping wounds. Then to the ruined tunic, balled up and cast off the the side. It will need mending. Hyrule will have to borrow one in the meantime.

Finally, Legend stares down at their hands. Both faintly pink, smeared with crusting blood. He squeezes Hyrule’s limp fingers once. They’re just a little too cold.

If he noticed the footsteps, then he doesn’t remember it, because the sudden appearance of Warrior catches him a tad off guard.

“Will he be okay?” Warrior wrings the hem of his too-large shirt, biting his lip, Legend notices, to keep it from quivering.

Legend pats the ground beside him, an invitation. Warrior immediately sits down, leans in just a bit closer. He’s staring at Hyrule, at him laying so unnaturally still and pale.

And he’s… calm.

Legend looks at him, in this moment, and sees in the slight furrow of his brow, his lips pulled thin, his eyes watery, but clear.

This is not the face of someone learning the distress for the first time. This is the face of someone who’s been here before.

“Yes,” Legend hears himself say, “He will be.”

Warrior exhales, and his face falls, slacking with relief.

And Legend can’t help it. He asks before he can stop himself, “Have you done this before?”

But Warrior doesn’t need clarification.

“Yeah.”

Warrior pulls a leg to his chest and rests his chin on his knee. He slides his gaze away, unseeing, and says, “Mommy’s job is dangerous.”

And Legend doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to, they both know he’s listening.

“She fights bad guys all the time and leaves a lot. She doesn’t always come back okay,” He says the last part barely above a whisper, then quickly, “She always gets better though, and ‘Rule will too.”

Legend suddenly finds it difficult to swallow, at the thought of little Warrior curled up at his mother’s bedside, waiting for her to wake up. And he’s torn, for a moment, on whether to be furious at Fate’s cruel hand for letting a child so young know such pain as worry, or deep, hollowing sadness at it all.

_~~‘Nothing is fair, not for us.’~~ _

“C’mere,” He wills his voice not to break and opens up his arms. A diffierent invitation.

Warrior accepts without hesitating, climbing right into Legend’s lap, burrowing in his arms.

They do not have time and they should be on the move, but Legend and Warrior sit vigil for just a little longer ~~because the worry is just that much easier to bear when you’re not alone.~~

* * *

They didn’t know, and that’s the problem.

It all happens so fast.

One minute Wild is keeping pace with Time, itching to run off and no doubt never be seen again, and the next he’s halting, as recognition blooms across his face.

Wild asks, “Are we going to the garrison?”

Then, “Are we going to see Dad?!”

And before Legend can even ask “What?” he’s surging ahead, excited and surprised and _knowing exactly where he’s going._

It hits Twilight first.

“F*ck.” He’s already chasing after him, “F*ck f*ck F*CK! _Wild WAIT!_ ”

By the time Legend pieces it together, it’s far too late. ~~The realization hit him like a bucket of ice water, the cold piercing deep in his chest.~~

“This is his world,” Wind says quaky, face pale and sick, “He must not—he can’t—he-he doesn’t know.”

Legend hardly hears him. Something painfully tight coils like a snake around his heart as they follow, a dreaded march of stricken faces.

Wild is frozen when they finally catch up. And Legend doesn’t have to look to know he’s staring at ruins at least a hundred years old. Relics of a time only he remembers.

“I-I don’t,” He looks up at Twilight, distress etched across his face, “It’s supposed to be here. The garrison. It’s here. _It is."_

And it’s heartbreaking, to watch Twilight gently, so gently, scoop him up and cradle him close and whisper “Oh, Cub…”

“Where’s Dad,” Wild’s breaths come in short, unsteady puffs, “ _I want my Dad._ "

There’s no good way to let a child grieve.

And Legend knows this, knows this so _intimately._

He knows this and yet that doesn’t stop the raw anguish biting at his insides and clawing up his throat.

Twilight turns around, starts walking back to them, and almost as one, the rest of them surge forward.

Legend finds himself cramped between Wind and Warrior, in the impromptu group hug, and it’s tight and uncomfortable and bitter but they hold on for dear life.

And he has no idea what he’s doing or why, only that _this isn’t fair_ and _he has to say something._ He’s reaching over Wind’s shoulders to touch Wild’s chin, gently, drawing everyone’s attention.

“This isn’t what you think it is,” He croaks, “One day you will look back on this, and it will all be a bad dream.”

~~Every word tastes sour on his tongue, like a sin, a lie. He’s not even sure of what he’s saying, if any of it makes sense. It probably doesn’t.~~

“You might even find this ironic, funny, even,” he adds, unsmiling.

“I don’t _understand_ ,” Wild’s eyes are hard to meet, but he does anyway.

“That’s okay,” He says, “That’s perfectly okay.”

And Legend just retracts his hand and no one says anything more and he can feel eyes on him but he doesn’t care. There’s nothing more to do but hold each other close and breathe.

It takes a while for them to start moving again. ~~Legend can’t make himself regret it.~~

* * *

It’s a grueling couple of hours.

They can’t risk stopping again, so they trudge and trudge and trudge through the afternoon and into early evening. (None of them have to voice their unease, the overwhelming urge to _get away_ from this place and it’s haunting history.)

It’s quiet. Horribly, chokingly quiet.

Warrior is keeping pace with Hyrule, who winces with each step that jostles his stitches, like a stoic little guardian, silently pointing out stray rocks or branches to avoid.

Time and Four are mulling over the Sheikah Slate, now that they know it works. Entire conversations between them pass through brief glances and gestures without a word being said.

Wild is asleep, thankfully. Draping the length of Wolfie’s back, his face buried in fur. Wind walks alongside them, attentive, occasionally reaching out to steady WIld from slipping off in his sleep.

And Sky is with Legend. He sticks closer to him now, clings to his hand constantly. ~~He doesn’t mind, not one bit.~~

By the time the last of the sun’s rosy ribbons disappear beyond the horizon, Sky’s practically asleep on his feet, sluggish and lagging. Legend is merciful. He easily picks him up and resituates him on his hip, an arm around Sky’s back and a hand under his thigh. Secure.

But the minute he’s off the ground Sky sits up, suddenly wide awake and self-satisfied.

“You sneaky bastard,” Legend realizes, offended, “You played me.”

Sky pretends not to hear, but Legend can see the mirth dancing in his eyes and the smirk he’s suppressing.

Legend moves to bend down, “Only sleepy children get to take advantage of my kindness.”

“No, wait! I’ll sleep. I’ll sleep I promise!” Sky glues himself to him, flashing puppy dog eyes that put Wind’s to shame.

 _Hylia give me strength_ , Legend melts internally.

Externally, he sighs loudly, just a little overdone. He glares with warmth (like _angry_ warmth, definitely not that mushy sh*t) as Sky squeezes his eyes tightly shut, scrunching up his face.

“Are you asleep yet,” he asks dryly, after about two seconds. Sky’s eyes flick open and he pouts. Legend snorts.

Sky sniffs, “I can’t sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have to sing.”

“What,” Legend almost trips over his own foot.

“You have to sing,” Sky insists, completely serious, “Or else I can’t sleep.”

And he rests his head against Legend’s shoulder, and waits pointedly.

So that’s the secret, huh? A lullaby.

He hesitates for a moment, almost considering asking Time to pull out the ocarina again. But in the end, he yields. ~~He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.~~

Even though it’s been a long, long time since he sang for anyone.

Here goes nothing.

His stomach feels oddly… fluttery, as he clears his throat and licks his lips.

 _“We’re walking in the air,"_ Legend begins, slow, barely a murmur.

 _“We’re floating in the moonlit sky,"_ He forces himself not to trip over the words.

 _“The people far below are **sleeping** as we fly,”_ He emphasises with a prodding nudge to Sky’s cheek, who thankfully closes his eyes, but not before sticking his tongue out at him.

 _“I’m holding very tight,"_ Legend doesn’t bother biting down his smile, feeling a bit more confident, _“I’m riding in the midnight blue."_

_“I’m finding I can fly so high above with you."_

_“Far across the world, the villages go by like trees.”_

_“The rivers and the hills, the forests and the streams."_ He can feel Sky relaxing, softening against him, the beat of his heart through his chest faint and unhurried.

 _“Children gaze open mouth,"_ Legend hitches him higher on his hip, _“Taken by surprise."_

_“Nobody down below believes their eyes."_

Sky yawns. Legend hums, pressing a cheek to the top of his head.

_“We’re walking in the air."_

_“We’re floating in the midnight sky,"_ He lowers his voice, carefully, until he’s whispering in Sky’s ear.

_“And everyone who sees us greets us as we fly."_

He sighs.

The sky is rich purple, with the barest hint of stars, and it’s quiet once more.

“Good night, you little sh*t,” He can’t help adding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanted to get this chapter out before school starts (we have make-up exams first week back!! aaa)
> 
> anyway
> 
> I'm a sucker for legend singing and unfortunately there will be a lot more of that in the future
> 
> oh and I completely forgot to add, but the song is Walking In The Air by Howard Blake


	5. an interlude of sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> legend has some ThoughtsTM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to cut this one in half cus it was getting long
> 
> and in case it wasn't obvious in the last chapter im taking a LOT of artistic licence with geography

Legend’s actually awake before anyone else. Before even Twilight. He’s not a hundred percent sure he’s not being possessed.

Overnight they’d stumbled miraculously upon a road, travel worn and with promise of leading them to civilisation. They weren’t disappointed. For once luck was on their side and brought them to a small establishment by the river. A stable. With lit candles and cooking fires and beds and one very sleepy stablehand, who startled awake at the sight of them. Six armed and armored fellows with three kids in tow showing up in the middle of the night was bound to raise some eyebrows.

They’d paid for four beds and split into pairs. Twilight with Wild. Time with Four. Hyrule with Warrior. Legend lying on his side next to Wind, Sky curled up between them.

He’d gotten about three hours of sleep before some unconscious tendency, or perhaps some sour dream that’s already faded from his memory, jolts him awake.

(He’s not surprised. He’s not had a good night’s sleep since he was a child.)

Legend blinks his eyes open begrudgingly. He reaches out on instinct. His hand falls on Sky’s shoulder and grasps, gently, anchoring. He breathes. He watches their faces, cast in shadow and open with sleep. Abruptly Wind snores, loud and obnoxious, and he has to snicker.

He lies still for another minute or two, hoping to fall asleep again.

He doesn’t.

(Typical.)

Legend sighs. Unhurriedly twisting and rolling out of bed, yet careful not to jostle the other two. (It’s really only Wind he was cautious about, Sky could sleep through a stampede.) They need their rest.

So that’s how he finds himself sitting alone in the cool limbo of early day and retreating night, with too much time and too many thoughts.

The result, is three piles laid out before him.

Three neat little piles. Piles of clothes and armor and belongings that aren’t his own.

In one, there is the cobalt scarf. In another, there is the sailcloth. The final pile has the Sheikah Slate. There are other things too, obsessively polished paldrons, a lovingly used woodcarving knife, a single blue tunic in need of mending (and a good wash).

Warriors. Sky. Wild.

His head fills with a sort of loud emptiness, strangely hollow, despite how crowded and heavy his thoughts weigh.

What is he doing? Legend doesn’t quite know himself. ~~He’d like to say that he can’t recognise the sentimental fool he’d become, but that would be a lie.~~

Wild, Warriors, Sky. Sky Wild Warriors.

Their names bounce around in his not-empty head, spurring images of unshakable smirks and reckless bets, or modest chuckles and fond teasing, or slanted smiles and sharp jests. Memories of slow days with bad games and easing tension, laughter that’s so genuine it hurts; memories of endless days wading through battlefields and thick fatigue, always back to back.

Then there are others. Softer images that mix and mingle with the rest. Images like a happy boy’s open face, scar-free as he laughs and laughs and laughs, like the sweet hesitance of the shy boy who loves his mom and sucks on his thumb, like the glint of mischief and the spring in the steps of a curious little boy hoping to see the world. These memories are newer, kinder.

Legend is consumed, in that moment, by sudden, rushing, raw _emotion._

From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he feels. He aches to his very core with just how _much_ he feels.

And he looks down at the belongings that aren’t his, the bits and pieces that don’t really belong to anyone, at the moment. At least not yet. He looks down.

Is this a revelation, of sorts? He thinks not, thinks he knew all along.

A reflection? No, not that either, he doesn’t need a mirror to see what’s so clearly in front of him.

A promise then.

Yes, that’s it. A promise of sorts.

He sits for a long time, not moving. The sun creeps ever higher and he starts to hear murmurs and shuffling and the now familiar sounds of them, waking, rising.

He dares to sit for a breath longer.

Then he’s reaching for the little piles, the ones he’d laid out ever so carefully, easing them one after the other into a pack. His pack. The one he’d needed to empty significantly to fill.

When he’s done, the pack is replaced with the others, off in a corner, and he turns away.

Legend walks back, with a new understanding. For in his chest sat an oath, born and bound by, as much he loathe to admit, _love._

_For them, I’d give the world_ , is what his heart says.

“I’m making breakfast,” is what he says outloud, “Who’s in the mood for burnt toast?”

“Aww not f*cking _again."_

* * *

Twilight opts out of breakfast, and Legend really doesn’t blame him.

He takes Epona ~~Legend would be more curious about how she keeps appearing and reappearing if he wasn’t certain it would drive him crazy~~ and f*cks off to who knows where, to do who knows what. Scouting, he’d said. Avoid getting food poisoning, he’d probably meant.

Meanwhile, Sky has awoken.

He’s managed to cajole Time into giving him a ride, pointing and declaring nonsensical things with great authority from upon his shoulders, as he’s paraded around like a king. Wild is fluttering at their heels, demanding a turn as well. Warriors, too, has on a hopeful expression from where he’s clinging to the back of Wild’s shirt, even if he’s quieter about it.

From where Legend is sitting, he can see Time’s face perfectly. He sees exactly the way he smiles, loose and a little toothy, and the way his eyes fill with a shining warmth. It kind of reminds him of the way his uncle used to look. ~~How _Legend_ sometimes looks.~~

“—egend? Earth to Legend. You still with us?”

Legend blinks, and turns his head.

Wind is waving a hand in his face, looking like he’s trying hard not to snicker. Four is there too, and Hyrule, looking much too pleased. All three of them sitting and staring pointedly at his face, and the shield he’d been polishing lying forgotten in his lap.

Oh.

He glares, and tries very hard to ignore the flush that is most definitely _not_ creeping into his cheeks.

“ _What._ ”

“Nothing,” Hyrule chirps too brightly. Legend is at least thankful he’s willing to pretend, if only for his sake. Four, too, seems merciful this morning, and starts to say, “We were just saying ho—

Wind, however, has no such qualms.

“You should’ve seen your face just now,” he smirks, and Legend already wants to die, “You were like _leaking_ mushiness.”

“I was _not_ —”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Hyrule interjects quickly, “ _Moving swiftly on._ We’re still low on potions and really should find a town so we can stock up.”

“Plus we need to buy actual food!” Wind blurts, “I’m sick of wanting to burn my taste buds off after every meal.”

“I’ve looked over the map,” Four says, “and unfortunately the nearest village is at least a day’s travel away, on foot.”

Wind asks, “What about on horse? Wouldn’t that be faster?”

“It would.”

“But do we even have the kind of money for that?” Legend cuts in, “That’s a minimum of five horses, six if we need one to carry the supplies.”

“And the supplies themseleves would weigh us down too,” Hyrule muses, frowning.

In the corner of Legend’s eye, he watches as Time tries almost desperately to wrangle the little ones, looking pleasantly overwhelmed. They grapple on his shoulders and dangle off his arms, and Legend has to bite down a laugh.

Just then, they hear a whinny in the distance. It’s succeeded by galloping hoofbeats and a familiar silhouette approaching from down the road.

“Twilight’s back,” Wind stands.

Twilight is indeed back, and looking strangely brittle. Legend can tell that something is amiss the moment he swings off Epona. There’s an unsettling sort of tension in his searching gaze and his pinched mouth and his stiff shoulders.

His eyes pass over them, and land on Wild. Then he seems to ease, a little, just seeing him still clinging to Time like an Octorock.

Legend squints, “What did you see out there?”

“Nothing good,” Twilight answers gruffly. He finally focuses on the four of them, still gathered around him, “C’mon. I’ll explain.”

And he does.

They huddle somewhat awkwardly in a corner, attentive, perturbed, and the first thing Twilight says is, “I went back to the ruins.”

Legend suddenly feels queasy.

“I-I don’t even know _why._ But,” and here, Twilight claws a hand through his hair, huffs just a teensy bit hysterically, “But it was _bad_ out there, you guys. It was—there were these _things_ everywhere.”

Legend suppresses a shiver, his throat tight. Yesterday…even after they’d left the ruins far behind (the garrison, Wild had called it, like he knew it by heart) they hadn’t truly escaped. In the corners of their eyes, over every hill and beyond, lurked haunting structures just waiting to be stumbled upon.

“Things? What do you mean?”

“They were like…husks. Remnants of an army, but not like any I’ve ever seen before…”

The conversation shifts, but Legend is no longer listening. His mind slips back to yesterday, and those lingering hours.

It took a lot to distract Wild. But they didn’t know what else to do. What _do_ you do when your friend who’s now a child sees the bitter remains of his old life left by the tragedy that defines his new one?

It took a lot to distract Wild. A lot of smiles he didn’t mean and words that fell empty. He’d asked, again and again, head tilted with blameless confusion. And again and again, Legend had to look him in those big watery eyes, and lie. Make up some useless excuse or nonsense coverup, and hope it was enough.

It wasn’t. But eventually, he stopped asking.

The silence was probably worse.

Even after he fell asleep, Legend felt something in his chest miserable and aching, with how utterly _helpless_ he’d been.

“What now?”

His attention snaps back.

Wind continues, “We have nothing. No food. No potions. No plan.”

He counts on his fingers briefly before throwing his hands up altogether, “We don’t even know how to reverse whatever magic that made them this way.”

“Can’t we just go to a village for supplies?” Twilight asks, choosing to gloss over the other thing. ~~None of them have dared address it yet, the possibility that this is permanent, that they’d find no cure.~~

“No,” Four sighs, pulling out the Sheikah Slate, “The nearest one is too far. We went through this already while you were gon—“

“Wait a minute,” Twilight cuts him off so abruptly Four startles and nearly drops. He winces, “Sorry, sorry. I just. Can I?” He motions to the Slate.

Four hands it to him, and them all watch, perplexed, as Twilight starts tapping away at the screen.

“I can’t believe I forgot, but Wild told me something once about the Slate, and how it’s sorta linked, I think, to the shrines. Y’know, like the one outside? Something about—“

Then he’s gone.

There’s a burst of burning blue and Legend cries out, tripping backwards. He blinks and blinks again and Twilight is gone.

And he barely has time to think _oh f*ck again?!_ nor force his lungs to work before there comes a yell from outside.

Legend turns his head so quick his neck twinges. He’s not thinking as he all but throws himself into motion, charging outside and almost immediately lurching to a halt.

He sees the strange shrine, alive with a throbbing light that wasn’t there before. He sees Time and the little ones caught in shock and frozen in their approach. And he sees Twilight, emerging like a spirit out of pure blinding radiance, the shape of him forming out of thin air.

He lands on his feet, but doesn’t stay that way for long.

The clatter of the Sheikah Slate slipping out of Twilight’s hands as he doubles over, heaving, is enough to jar Legend back into motion.

In a blink he’s kneeling by Twilight’s side, placing a hand on his back, grounding.

“Breathe,” He says, not quite sure who he’s talking to.

But Twilight breathes. Then Legend breathes. And the world catches up to him in bursts.

Four arrives next, bringing with him frantic noise, straining to be calm despite his bemusement. Legend pulls away so he can take over, rubbing Twilight’s back as he dry-heaves. (He’ll be fine. Probably.)

Then he’s letting Wind and Hyrule push past him, spewing questions, and stepping away to pick up the Slate, laying forgotten on the ground.

“Teleportation,” he exhales, faint, “Okay. F*ck. Good to know, I guess.”

Legend doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he locks eyes with Time across the way, who’s wavering along the lines of confused and concerned, and he hears the rest smothering Twilight behind him, and he’s ignoring all of it as a spark of something, half-baked, barely the beginnings of a plan start to take shape in his head.

It will be later, after time, and debate, and tossing ideas back and forth again and again that they finally settle on something concrete.

“So it’s agreed?” Time is with them now, having handed babysitting duties to Hyrule, “We split up. Four and I take the Slate, find a village, see if we can buy potions or food.”

“Yep. And I’ll take Wind scouting with me,” Twilight adds, “talk to some people, gather what information we can, we’re gonna need it.”

“That leaves ‘Rule and I to hold down the fort,” Legend finishes.

Time nods, “It’s for the best. We can’t keep up the pace with three kids to account for, might as well take our time now that we’ve found a safe place to rest for a few days.”

There are nods and hums of assent all around.

“I guess that’s settled, then. We regroup back here at sundown, don’t be late,” here, Time gives Wind a pointed look. Wind grins back and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Twilight.”

Legend snorts. Twilight rolls his eyes.

“I knew I could count on you,” Time says completely seriously.

Twilight makes an offended noise, shooting him a look of pure betrayal. Legend snickers loudly.

* * *

“ _Ow._ ”

“Sh*t, sorry.”

“S’okay, s’okay,” Hyrule bites his lip and looks up, away from Legend’s hands and the bloody mess of his side, exposed. The old bandage lies discarded in a sticky heap nearby, soaked pink. Legend is in the process of applying a new one, carefully easing fresh white cotton over the glaring stitches, but no amount of gentleness will erase the sting.

When it’s done, he snips the gauze and sits back on his heels with a sigh.

Hyrule takes a moment to peak at his wound, gingerly graze fingertips over fresh white wrappings, before rolling back down his tunic, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” He shifts around the extra linen rolls and half-drunk potions stewn out of his medical kit, “You’re free to go.”

Hyrule smiles and is already moving to stand. But one sharp look from Legend has him slowing down, sheepishly mindful of his injury.

“And get Twi for me, will you?” Legend adds as an afterthought, looking up. Hyrule squeezes his shoulder in assent as he moves past him.

He starts to tidy up his mess, tucking bottles and bandages back where they belong. He doubts he’ll need _surgical thread_ with Twilight. Not when he’s just checking up on his healing bruises.

“You wanted to see me, nurse?”

Twilight shuffles and slumps down to the floor in front of him, folding his long limbs and grinning lopsidedly. Legend rolls his eyes.

“I’m the best f*cking nurse you’re ever gonna get,” he makes grabby motions with his hands, “So c’mere and lemme see how badly you f*cked up.”

Twilight huffs and shakes his head, but obeys. He leans forward, letting Legend tug aside his collar to get a better look. He winces at the sight.

“You look like a giant hickey.”

“What happened to bedside manner?” Twilight smirks.

“Shut up and hold still,” Legend backs up a bit to fumble around for a small pouch of ice he keeps on hand, magically charmed to stay cold (real handy in a pinch). When he leans in again, Twilight is focused on something beyond his shoulder.

He sighs.

“It was _that_ bad, huh?”

Legend presses the ice to Twilight’s neck and he startles, attention jolting back.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” The ice switches hands as Twilight moves to adjust it and Legend looks away. He reaches for something to do, occupy his too empty hands, suddenly feeling heavy and awkward. He finds nothing, settles on clasping them in his lap, “Whatever you saw out there. It was bad enough to kickstart your Big Brother Instincts or whatever.”

“My _what—_ ”

“You’re watching them, aren’t you?” Legend blurts, “You’re watching over them even now, because it’s a sh*tstorm out there and you’re pretending it doesn’t bother you.”

Twilight pauses. Then he sighs. Then he shakes his head and quirks his lips in a wry smile.

“I knew someone was gonna call me out on it, though I thought it was gonna be the Old Man.”

“Unlike Time I don’t need to be old and single-eyed to be _observant._ “

“Careful Legend,” Twilight sounds too fond, “Wouldn’t want people to think you’re going soft.”

He socks Twilight in the shoulder. ~~Lightly.~~

There’s a brief and half-hearted scuffle before their attention is drawn by laughter louder than their own.

Legend cranes his neck to look, halting when he sees the three of them. Warriors, Sky and Wild, huddling on their knees, poking at an ant hill. Wind is crouching with them, grinning when they squeal and point and chatter so excitedly. Acting like _kids._ Being _kids._ In this stolen moment of childhood, they get a second chance, however brief, to be young.

In the corner of his eye, Legend sees Twilight’s face. He looks stupid with warmth and Legend knows he looks the same.

Goddess-f*cking-damn-it.

They lock eyes and there’s understanding there.

Twilight says softly, “I found a castle, out there. Or what remained.”

Legend sits up, gaze narrowing. The mood sours.

“I didn’t get close enough to see much, but I didn’t need to. It was a _wreck_ Legend. I can’t imagine what Wild went through. What he had to face.”

Legend is silent.

“The thought of _any_ of them having to go through what they do… It can’t be bad that I just want them to be safe, right?”

And Legend doesn’t have to agree aloud. He doesn’t say _“No, not at all.”_ or _“Yes, exactly that.”_ like he feels.

He doesn’t say _“I’d do anything for them.”_ because he doesn’t have to. He’d meant it earlier, alone, and now, with witness. He’ll mean it still on his dying breath.

Twilight looks him in the eyes and says, “I have an idea.”

And Legend already has an agreement on his tongue when Twilight puts down the ice still clenched in his hand, and reaches for his neck. For the familiar string chord with the familiar looking amulet that makes his confidence shrivel and die.

“Wait—“ He tries, but Twilight has already slipped it over his head.

“Keep it for me,” He says, “It won’t be of much use when I’m with Wind anyway.”

Legend is still reeling because _Twilight took off his necklace_ and _he never takes off that necklace_ and Legend didn’t know _why_ until very recently, when he became much _too_ acquainted, “What the f*ck.”

“I trust you,” Twilight says and ah. So that’s what this is really about.

It seems Legend isn’t the only one making promises.

And exchange of trust. If Legend were a more poetic man, he’d call it symbolic. But he isn’t. So he calls it what it is.

“A f*cking bad idea.”

Twilight laughs, sudden and ridiculous, and it’s infectious because Legend can’t help the few giggles that escape.

“Will you please just take it.”

“This end will in disaster. Can’t wait to say ‘I told you so.’”

“ _Legend._ “

“There are so many reasons this is unnecessary,” He says.

Twilight reaches for his hand, unfurling his fingers. He presses the string into Legend’s palm before he can escape.

“Please,” He presses, and suddenly Legend is caught in pleading puppy dog eyes. ~~What the f*ck why how is everybody so good at that but him.~~ He finds himself involuntarily closing his fist over the necklace. ~~God f*cking damnit.~~

“You don’t even have to use it,“ He hurries on, “It’d be enough knowing someone is here who can _be_ there for them the way people sometimes can’t.”

Legend has flashbacks of pink and fur and cutesy sweater vests. He shudders.

“The Master Sword is right there if you need it. Besides,” And here Twilight smirks, almost challenging, “Bunnies are cute.”

“Oh f*ck you,” He tries, but it sounds weak even to himself.

The worst part is he knows Twilight would back off if he asked; the worst part is he’d say yes in a heartbeat; the worst part is he knows exactly what his answer will be.

“So? Whaddya say?”

* * *

They gather in the shade, under worn ruddy canvas, to say goodbye.

Time and Four both have grips on the Sheikah Slate, and one another. They visibly steel themselves in anticipation, but soften at the sight of Sky, waving wholeheartedly, arms sweeping in giant arcs through the air, narrowly avoiding Hyrule’s face.

Wind and Twilight look back from atop Epona, respond to Wild’s bellowed farewells with their own, that devolves into a contest of wills so loud and obnoxious they shock a frazzled sparrow out of its nest.

Legend catches Twilight’s eye before he turns away, a conversation held in a glance. He can feel the necklace’s weight burning a hole in his pocket, devilishly nonchalant. It’s torture knowing it’s there and trying not to think about it.

He hauls his attention away, to more immediate problems.

“What’s the matter,” Legend mutters soft, privately into the ear of Warrior, perched on his hip, “You’re awfully quiet.”

He means it differently, though. Warrior is often quiet, shyer than the rest except when it counts, when his words truly resonate. His silence is never empty, never less than what words could fill.

This silence is not like those.

This silence is… pained.

It sits uneasily with Legend, curdles like spoiled milk in his stomach.

“Hey,” he prods again, because Warrior is biting his lip and still too _too_ quiet.

Warrior pauses, debating something in his little head that Legend can’t fathom, then finally, “…it’s not forever.”

“What?”

“It’s not forever,” Warrior looks at him with sudden uncertainty, “right? They’ll be back?”

Legend’s brain wastes a second yelling _hey what the f*ck_ before remembering he needs to reply.

“ _No_ ,” He says a little too loud, winces at himself, “No no, of course they’ll be back, they’re just running erands, that’s all. What in the world gave you that idea?” He attempts to sound joking, play it light, like he isn’t barely reeling in the tidal wave of concern.

Warrior sighs with innocent relief, “Nevermind, it’s okay now.” And turns to join the others in waving and calling farewell.

Legend is still.

A million thoughts, a million words lay dead on his shrivelled tongue.

He manages to bite it down until Twilight and Wind diminish from view, until Time and Four disappear in an eye-watering flash, but he can’t anymore,

He catches Warrior’s eyes again, and this time can’t help the worry seeping into his expression. He watches Warrior’s face flicker into confusion, but only for a second before settling into clarity. He’s always been quick, too perceptive for his own good.

Warrior looks almost sheepish.

“Did I do it again?”

“Do. Do what again?” Legend squints. He doesn’t understand.

Warrior huffs a bit, glares at nothing and presses his palms to his forehead.

“You sound like mommy,” he whines, “I miss mommy when she has to go.”

“She always comes back an’ she _always_ promises an’ Twi and Wind and Time and Four are all going an’ they didn’t promise so—so I don’t know,” he babbles on without stopping for breath and Legend thinks absently that this is the most he’s ever heard him speak at a time.

_Oh_ , his mind so helpfully provides.

~~He thinks of how they left, loaded with gear and guarded and shouldering the anticipation of those venturing into the unknown, and thinks of how that must’ve looked to Warrior, to a boy who grew up in times of war.~~

_Oh._

Hylia help him.

He latches onto the first thing that makes sense and doesn’t let go.

“I promise,” he blurts, before he can hesitate, “ _I_ promise they’ll be back.”

He pours every drop of conviction into those words, _I promise I promise I promise._

Warrior blinks slow, tilts his silly head, and starts to grin, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” He drapes his arms around Legend’s neck, presses cheek to chest, “I know you won’t lie to me.”

Legend swallows.

“Not to you, never to you.”

Hyrule is looking their way now, curious, eyebrow raised. He will ask about it later, and Legend will tell him later. But right now…

“Hey, who takes care of you when your mom is away?”

“My sisters.”

“Sisters?”

“Yeah, five of them, all bigger.”

“ _Five_ big sisters hold on _how_ is this the first I’m hearing of this—“

* * *

Legend learns things, that afternoon, new things, little things.

It’s all at once foreign yet strangely familiar.

They play hide-and-seek and he fishes Wild out of a tree. They play tag and he gets dive-bombed by Sky. They play tic-tac-toe and he loses to Warrior every single time. ~~It’s not like he lets them win, it’s not like he’s addicted to the way they glow with happiness and the way it warms his heart.~~

(He still catches himself looking, from time to time, at the knapsack he’d hidden the necklace in, but they never leave him alone long enough to linger on it.)

Warrior waxes poetic about a comfortably cramped household, the woes of being the youngest sibling, his mother’s battle-scars, Legend listens. Sky reminiscences eagerly on a floating home, the endless horizon dotted with clouds, the brilliant red of the setting sun, Legend listens. Wild meticulously describes the view outside his bedroom window, his favorite pair of mud splattered boots, the smell of fresh wildberry pie, Legend listens.

It’s all at once new and not.

It’s _them._

Legend gets the chance, that afternoon, to know these little pieces of them. Learns, treasures this insight, this unexpected gift, that he’s not sure what to do with but knows he wants to remember.

**Author's Note:**

> this idea has been in the works for ages. so glad I'm finally getting it out.


End file.
